


Baked Memories

by Emeraldawn



Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas, Gen, another late bingo fill from me, light team bonding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/pseuds/Emeraldawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know what I could go for right now, Probie?  A sugar cookie.  And not the cheap kind you get at a store, but the real honest to God sugar cookies you get to make at Christmas, as a kid. With the frosting and the sprinkles. The kind George Strait sings about.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baked Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Yes its a Christmas one. I was sick and didn't get my HC Bingo fics posted an in. Next year get in on time and go for Black-Out!
> 
> Thank you to my Beta killpurakat. She makes this readable guys.
> 
> HC Bingo fill for Comfort Food

“You know what I could go for right now, Probie? A sugar cookie. And not the cheap kind you get at a store, but the real honest to God sugar cookies you get to make at Christmas, as a kid. With the frosting and the sprinkles. The kind George Strait sings about.”

Tim smirked at that. Leave it to Tony to pull out a reference like that.

“I know what you mean, Tony; I miss Rugelakh with sour cream dough. I don't know how Americans like the cream cheese one; it's just not like home to me,” Ziva said, while sorting through her paperwork. “I use to make it with my mother and sister, before they died.”

It was late, two days before Christmas, and the team was once again working the Holiday. Not that many of them minded, since it was well know that the members of team Gibbs either didn't have a family or were not very close to the ones they had left. However that didn't mean that every year someone wouldn’t start a conversation of some childhood nostalgia, which would turn into a group discussion on happy memories of the holidays. Unless they had a case, it was the only time Gibbs would let his team ramble on.

Personally, Tim thought Gibbs enjoyed hearing about his team having fun as children.

“Oh, you guys are talking about favorite Christmas goodies?” Abby said, leaning over the dividing wall between Tim's desk and the rest of the open room, sipping what looked like vending machine hot chocolate. “I love Even Sluttier Slutty Brownies; I make them for the Nun's Christmas bake-sale every year.”

“Did you say ‘slutty brownies’ Abby?” Tony perked up at whatever dirty thought crossed his mind. “Does that mean you make them in the…”

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs warned.

“Sorry boss.”

“Tony, only you can take talking about baked goods and end up with your mind in the sewer.”

“It's the gutter, Ziva, although with Tony you might not be far off,” Tim said, watching Tony roll his eyes at his comment. “Hey boss, do you have a favorite?” Tim asked Gibbs who, other than the few times he stirred the team away from a fight like a seasoned parent, had been silent. 

Gibbs paused and looked at the four faces of his team, looking at him much like children waiting to hear a story from their parents. “My mother used to make gingerbread.”

 

Christmas Eve fell on a Thursday that year, making it the last day the team had to show at the office, even though the group was on call throughout the Holiday weekend. Although never planned, everyone at some point on Christmas would usually wander over to Gibbs’s place, bringing something to eat. Every year Tim was amazed that Abby just didn’t plan on them all to be there, like she did with Thanksgiving.

Since he couldn't be sure to see his team mates on the holiday, Tim came in early that Christmas Eve and dropped a colorful tin on everyone's desk before heading downstairs to Abby's lab and autopsy.

On slow days like this, the team seemed to trickle in, even though Tim suspected that Gibbs was already at work somewhere.

“Good morning McGee,” Ziva said, as she stepped off the elevator with a tray of coffees in her hand. Stopping over at her desk, she relived herself of her jacket and backpack. “What’s this?”

“Just something for you, I don’t know if I’ll see you tomorrow and, well you know with you being Jewish, you don't have to come over and spend the day with anyone.”

“McGee, I spend Christmas with everyone not because I have to, but because I want to. Even though we never plan it, I think we all need it. Just don't let the other men know we know,” Ziva said, with a wink. “But thank you for the gift. I didn't get you anything but coffee since it was my day to bring it in.” 

“Ziva, haven't you heard Christmas isn't about presents?” Tim asked with a smile.

“What do you mean Christmas isn't about presents? Are you turning into some sort of Commie, McGee?” Tony asked as he entered the bullpin. “It's exactly what Christmas is about! Well, the part people like most anyway. Oh look, a present!” Tony exclaimed, picking up the tin and turning to Ziva’s desk to grab his coffee off the tray. “And coffee! What more can a man ask for?”

“Knowing you Tony, almost anything,” Ziva said, as she walked the other coffees to Gibbs's and McGee's desks. 

“Oh my, I have a cookie angel,” Tony said as he lifted a sugar cookie cut in an angel shape, iced in white frosting and silver sprinkles, out of the tin. “Ziva were you up all night playing home maker?”

“No, that would be McGee,” Ziva said, opening up her box. 

“Awe cute, do you wear a white apron with all the frills, McGee?” Tony asked before taking a bite of the angel. “Oh never mind all the bad things I said about you McGee, these things are good. Marry me!”

“He can't marry you, Tony. He's going to marry me. He made me Rugelakh.”

“McGee, I'd take Ziva over Tony if I were you. Tony seems like a bed hog to me,” Gibbs said as he walked into the bullpin with his almost-finished cup of coffee in his hand. Opening up his box, Gibbs pulled out a gingerbread man with just the smallest touches of icing on him. “Gingerbread.”

“I didn't know if you liked it in cookie form or in the bread form so a made you a little of both. I, umm, notice you don't eat a lot of sugar, so I just did small icing for looks,” McGee said.

“You didn't have too, McGee.”

“I really don't mind, Sir. When my father was deployed around the holidays, Mom and I would make cookies. With everyone talking about cookies the other day, it reminded me of that.”

Sitting down with his gingerbread man and fresh new coffee, Gibbs cracked a rare smile. “Thank you, McGee.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wanted:
> 
> For the recipe for “Even Sluttier Slutty Brownies”  
> http://www.food.com/recipe/even-sluttier-slutty-brownies-491951
> 
> And I spelled Rugelakh with a KH not a CH because (like my real name) the KH follows the Hebrew spelling, and Ziva as we all know is from Israel.  
> Anyway try this one with the sour cream dough
> 
> http://allrecipes.com/recipe/rugelach-2/


End file.
